


Knowledge is Power

by wewillalwaysenduphere



Series: Take The Path That Leads To Power [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Gen, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam gets taught by demons witches and Benny, Sam meets Azazel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7761466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam followed Crowley to Hell, and finally gets some much-needed answers from Azazel.</p><p>He'll get trained to fulfill his destiny, and his team of teachers consists of a demon, two witches and a vampire, but it sure is effective. By the age of sixteen Sam is fluent in both Latin and Enochian, able to fight off everything that goes bump in the night, and knows whole spell books by heart.</p><p>Azazel also lets him drink demon blood for the first time, and morals seem so petty compared to the power it offers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowledge is Power

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of this AU.
> 
> Sam is in hell and gets a band of loveable misfits as his teachers: Meg, Lia and Patrick from 5x07 (the two witches, he was playing the poker game with years as stake), Benny LaFitte and Ruby (but she's more of a snack, really.) 
> 
> Enjoy :)

Hell was not how Sam had expected it to be.

First, it wasn’t hot at all. There was no fire, no open field with people standing in rows waiting to be tortured. No pit in the centre. If there even was a centre.

The sky wasn’t a bloody red, it was dark – black and grey, and there were chains spanning from east to west and north to south, so long they seemed to go on forever, without an ending or a beginning anywhere. Sam was living in a palace, had a huge bedroom, a bathroom to himself and another room with all the new gaming consoles he could name – Crowley had insisted on getting them all, along with all the books Sam had ever wanted to read: Classics, fantasy, autobiographies of people that he admired. The shelf was not even half filled yet, but Crowley had let him know he would get whatever he wanted.

There was another shelf with books; those were older, and much rarer. Crowley had warned him, there was dangerous magic described in those books, rituals he could perform, of course, but maybe he would want someone to help him.

Sam spent the first two weeks in hell behaving like a normal thirteen-year-old. He ordered all the sweets he could get, overate more than once, all the burgers and fries and pizza he could possibly stomach, playing video games throughout the night, sleeping half the day. Crowley didn’t object. Sam had a maid, she was called Meg, and whatever he wanted, she would get it for him.

But Sam wasn’t a normal thirteen-year-old. And after two weeks of eating and playing video games, he decided that it was time to face who he was. Time to question why the King of the Crossroads (because that was apparently who Crowley was) obeyed his every whim, and why a demon lady let herself be degraded to being his nanny. (She actually didn’t even seem disappointed by the job.)

However, while Crowley was giving Sam all the time he needed, Azazel didn’t. And that’s why he just barged into Sam’s room on the morning of his fourteenth day in hell. Sam was wearing sweatpants and a Star Wars shirt he had worn the day Crowley took him down here. He had been sitting on his bed, cross-legged, thinking about how to ask the questions he wanted, and whether he would be ready for the answers.

And now this new demon was here, with yellow eyes instead of the usual black ones. But that wasn’t what set Sam off. The strange thing about him was that there seemed to be an almost physical connection between him and Sam. He instinctively knew this man was dangerous, powerful, way more than Meg or even Crowley.

“Hello, Sam. My name is Azazel.” He introduced himself. “I am the King of Hell.”

_(Later, years later, choking on his own blood, I made him regret those words. This title is mine.)_

Sam didn’t really know what to respond, introducing himself seemed superfluous since Azazel knew his name.

“Mind if I sit?”

Azazel was pointing down to Sam’s bed, and he shook his head, there was enough place for Azazel even without him moving a single inch.

“Thanks.” He didn’t sound particularly grateful, and the smile directed at Sam was more creepy than confidence-inspiring. “Crowley didn’t tell me you were mute.”

Sam’s gaze became indignant.

“I am not. But the King of Hell doesn’t walk into your room every day.” He sounded surprisingly defiant – but so far he had yet to meet a demon that actually scared him, even being thirteen and having no idea how to access these strange powers he apparently had, there was just something inside him that kept him from being afraid. He didn’t really know what it was, couldn’t put the finger on it, but this something allowed him to look into Azazel’s yellow eyes without even the slightest hint of fear.

Azazel just chuckled. “That’s my boy.” He got comfortable on the bed, cross-legged like Sam, directly opposite him, his back to the foot of the bed.

“I bet you have a lot of questions. I’m here to give you some answers. So ask away.”

Sam didn’t trust him. Not at all. But then again – Crowley had mentioned an Azazel a couple of times, and that he knew more about him, that he could explain better than Crowley himself would be able to. He wasn’t in a position where he could be picky about his source of information. _(Actually, I was.)_

“I’m not a demon. But apparently I’m not really human either. So what does that make me?”

Sam was proud of how steady his voice sounded; he didn’t think he would make it through that question without at least a tremble in his voice. But no, nothing. He almost smiled, but held himself back at the last second. Azazel nodded a little, musing to himself. “I should have seen this one coming...” Then he looked up at Sam, into his eyes, and started to explain.

“Your parents were human. Both your mother and father were completely human, but they came from a very important bloodline that goes back to Adam and Eve. Don’t look at me like that, yes, they existed, and there’s more than that that you have to learn, but for now it’s enough if you know that your parents were perfectly normal humans. Now, when you were six months old, I visited your family. I stood by your crib and made you drink some of my blood. That’s part of what makes you special.”

“There’s more?” Sam didn’t mean to interrupt, but he couldn’t keep quiet. There was demon blood in him, and that wasn’t even all of it?

“Yes, there’s more. So listen.” Azazel’s voice was sharp, and he leaned forward. Whatever came now had to be even more important than what the demon had just revealed to Sam. “There are more children that got a taste of my blood, and they will develop abilities as well. They are meant to be soldiers in a coming war. You, however...you’re special. Because you are also Lucifer’s vessel. You are made for him, and he will use your body to walk the earth.”

This was the first time within two weeks down in hell that Sam felt fear spread through him.

“Lucifer?” Now his voice shook, sounding young and scared. “The devil?”

Azazel nodded. “That’s what humanity calls him. To us demons, he’s a god. He created us. He will start the apocalypse and end the world as you know it, so demonkind can finally rule the world.”

Sam blinked. Azazel sounded like a madmen, but he was serious. Deadly serious. And he was in Hell, literally, and if demons existed, why shouldn’t Lucifer? If Adam and Eve were real, did that make god real, too? Was there an actual God? Were there angels?

Only when Azazel held up a hand did Sam realize he had been thinking out loud, had put all this questions out there.

“You will start studying tomorrow. We have teachers – demons, witches, a few of the monsters walking topside, they’ll tell you everything you need to know. But I can tell you _yes_ , to all of the above. It’s all real, but the bible got a lot of it wrong.”

Sam nodded numbly, before remembering what had scared him before. He was fiddling with the comforter of his bed, would have wrapped it around himself and curled in on it if Azazel wouldn’t be sitting on it, too. But the King of Hell was here, and his yellow eyes seemed to slice Sam’s skull open to see right into him. He might as well just ask.

“You said I am Lucifer’s vessel. You said he would use my body. What does that mean?”

Azazel nodded lightly. “Good question. You need to know that demons are human souls, tortured until they lost all their inhibitions, their weaknesses, everything that made them human. Souls don’t have a body. So we need to possess people. We take over their bodies. It’s almost the same for angels, except that Lucifer will need your consent.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “Why would I willingly consent to possession?”

He didn’t know what would become of his body, of his mind, his soul – would he die? Would his conscience be flushed out by Lucifer and simply die or-

Azazel’s answer interrupted his train of thought. “Because you were made for Lucifer. The apocalypse was always meant to be, and your soul was made for Lucifer. You and him, you belong together.”

Sam stared at him for a long time, mouth open, eyes twitching. He was hyperventilating, and he didn’t realize. His knuckles were white were they clutched his comforter, and he was shaking all over. He felt like he was freezing, and he was slowly disconnecting, losing his grip on reality, focused on the intricate pattern stitched into the fabric he was so desperately clutching. The devil’s soul mate. He started laughing, loud and cold like glass breaking on stone, and he couldn’t stop, couldn’t see with all the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, until darkness offered an out and he gladly accepted.

Azazel sighed, still sitting cross-legged on the bed, after he had used his powers to put Sam to sleep. He had taken it well, until the point where Lucifer became involved. Of course, that made sense – Sam was thirteen after all, and Azazel had just expected too much. He frowned a little while he wiped Sam’s mind – he left all the information he had given him except the part about Lucifer. Sam could apparently cope with demon blood in his system, in a few years he would be able to take the knowledge about Lucifer as well.

He smoothed the edges around the memory out – Sam was clever and sharp, he would realize something was missing if Azazel didn’t do it properly – so he took some time to model new memories, and then he put Sam into a more comfortable position than he currently was in – slouched against the headboard. When he was done, Sam was lying on his back, head resting on his pillow, the memory in his mind as realistic as if it was real, and Azazel nodded to himself before leaving the room.

The teachers would be here tomorrow, and they would tell Sam the truth about the world, about what was out there, down here in Hell and up there in Heaven. They would forge Sam into a deadly weapon, a man with all the knowledge witches, hunters and demons possessed. Sam would be more dangerous than any of the monsters roaming the world, and then Azazel would let him taste demon blood for the first time. The first time he would remember, that is.

That would make Sam the most dangerous thing not only on earth, but also down here in Hell, and probably up in Heaven as well.

 

When Sam woke up the next morning he felt good, well-rested and hungry for the knowledge his teachers would give him.

And his teachers were _way_ different than he had expected.

First there was Meg, who had been his maid the past two weeks – she had short blonde hair, wears jeans and leather jackets and grins widely at Sam, eyes pitch-black and unreadable.

There was not one witch, but a couple, called Lia and Patrick. Lia had long, blonde hair and kind eyes, Patrick’s hair was short and he was always chewing on a toothpick, a look of amusement on his face as if someone just told a joke and he was the only one who understood it.

And then there was Benny LaFitte.  A vampire with broad shoulders, a short beard, dirty blonde hair and green eyes.

The last one, but not as interesting, was Tom. Another demon, but his only task is to make sure Sam gets a normal education as well. To Sam it doesn’t even sound boring – he always found knowledge important, so he wouldn’t decline Azazel’s offer to give him that.

Sam knew that all of them were hunters in their own way, and naturally he would be their prey, but either they knew who he was or the demons were paying them well, because no one asked any stupid questions or treated him like a child. They sat down in his living room, around the huge table, and wrote a plan who would teach him which day, what each of them would be educating him in, and if there was anything special he’d like to learn.

The next few weeks flew by in what seemed like a heartbeat, when Meg explained to him how the world really was created, about the garden, Adam, Eve, Lucifer’s fall and the first demons. She also taught him how to fight off demons, gave him a knife to kill them, and started tutoring him in Latin and Enochian. He would need it, later on, for magic and rituals. She was also responsible for his hand-to-hand combat, and although he wasn’t that eager to learn how to fight, his lessons with Benny showed him how necessary it was.

Benny took him topside – or the other way around, to be exact, because Sam could go from earth to hell with a simple thought, something Meg had taught him right in the beginning – and showed him all the monsters roaming the earth. It was crazy. Not only vampires and werewolves, no, also shtrigas and wendigos and spirits, banshees and changelings, shifters, djinn and wraiths. Benny explained their weaknesses and strengths to him, their abilities and how to kill them. Benny showed him how to disassemble a gun, how to make his own rounds, how to shoot. How to handle all the different weapons out there, and announced to him that once he was grown-up enough, he would take over his hand-to-hand as well. That was the point Sam decided to take his lessons with Meg seriously, because as dangerous as she was, she was  a demon and therefore no threat to him. Benny...well, whenever Sam wasn’t good enough to fit his high standards he smirked and let his fangs show, telling Sam that if he didn’t prove he was better than the average human, he might feel compelled to take a bite out of him. Despite that, he liked Benny.

Lia and Patrick were completely different from each other – she was kind-hearted and treated him almost like her own son, showed him how to brew potions, which herbs were needed, where to find them, what to use them for and what he needed to know about rituals. At first the lessons seemed boring, but one day he almost killed himself by picking up the wrong mushroom, and after that fiasco he knew why the time spent with her was so important.

Patrick always had a wicked gleam in his eye and most of their time they were playing poker – that’s how Patrick had survived this long, he played with humans, but it wasn’t money that was at stake – he played for years. Most people lost, obviously, and that’s what had kept him alive for almost nine hundred years. He was the one who taught Sam to play the opponent, not the game, and Sam loved all the small mind games Patrick taught him, all the ways to trick people and make them believe they had the upper hand. It took him a few weeks to realize that all these tips applied to life itself as well as a poker game, but that did nothing to curb his enthusiasm when it came to his lessons with Patrick. On the contrary, it made him even more eager to learn.

The couple was pleasantly surprised when they discovered he was a natural – one of the few blessed with magic abilities without having to make a deal with a demon. Not that that would have been a problem anyway, but they regarded him with more respect after that, and once they moved on to rituals and summonings, they often held his lessons together, because they were playing around with forces that could kill them. Sam loved the thrill that came from it, and the two were happy to answer every question he could ask.

So while other kids his age were studying literature, history and maths Sam learned how to kill every monster walking the earth, speak Latin, mix potions and poisons and all the rituals out there, from simple summonings to how he could bind daevas to do his bidding.

By the age of sixteen Sam was fluent in both Latin and Enochian – he had also asked Meg to teach him Spanish and Japanese, simply because he could – able to fight off everything that went bump in the night, and knew whole spell books by heart.

All of his teachers were impressed by how fast he learned, how dedicated he was, and how powerful. Lia and Patrick were the ones who realized it first, when he managed to bind his first daeva shortly after his fourteenth birthday. He started growing around that time too, and once he was fifteen Benny was the only one he would do hand-to-hand combat with, and when he managed to beat the vampire the first time, Benny muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “They can tell me what they want, no human is that strong”, but Sam pretended he hadn’t heard it.

He finished what would have been his senior year with Tom, and asked the demon if he knew enough to give Sam a college education as well. Tom nodded – he was old, and he valued knowledge the way Sam did, so although these lessons were nowhere near as exciting as those with the others, he found peace and enjoyment in them.

 

Shortly after that, Azazel showed up in his room again, like he had done the first time three years earlier. The difference was this time, Sam was prepared, was older, and had some questions of his own.

Azazel was already sitting at the table in his living room when he entered his flat, and in front of him were two glasses and a whiskey decanter.

“Hello, Sam”, he said casually, and nodded to the chair next to him. “Sit down.”

It wasn’t really a command, but it wasn’t a question either. Sam did it anyway, and reached for the whiskey, only to have Azazel grasp the bottle and pull it out of his reach. The demon smirked.

“Drinking age is twenty-one, Sammy.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You gave me a weapon collection for my fourteenth birthday”, he retorted drily. Azazel just shrugged.

“That’s something different. And I didn’t come here to talk about alcohol.”

The words sounded as if there would be no further discussion, and Sam shrugged and let it go.

“I bet you wonder why I’m here. Now, I’m sure you’ve realized that why you did learn a lot during the last three years – and I have to say, I am impressed by your progress – that you didn’t learn anything about your unique abilities.”

Sam nodded, eyes fixed on Azazel’s face. That was the question he had wanted to ask, because despite being more than busy during the last years he hadn’t forgotten about the incident with his teacher, about him using telekinesis or whatever, and the fact there was demon blood inside him.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you about. Lia and Patrick told me I had natural abilities when it comes to magic, but that happens to other people too – if rarely. So, will you teach me from now on?”

Azazel was grinning broadly by now.

“You are clever, Sammy. However, it’s not that easy. As I said, I gave you a little bit of my blood when you were a baby. That made it possible for you to develop the abilities you have now. But they will only activate themselves once you are twenty-two. Until then, they are dormant. That was how I planned it to go, at least. But as we both know, you can use them already, unconsciously. However...there’s a way to wake them up, and don’t get me wrong – while you only have to wake them once, you will have to keep doing this if you want to use them regularly, and to their full extent.”

Sam looked at Azazel curiously, he couldn’t imagine why he was making such a big thing out of this – he had worked black magic before, he had hunted with Benny, had killed werewolves and djinns and wraiths, exorcized demons, completed rituals. If a sacrifice was needed, he was sure he wouldn’t have any problems completing it.

“I’m ready to do what’s necessary”, he simply stated, no show of bravado.

Azazel nodded, satisfied with his answer. Then he raised his voice a little, “Ruby, come in.”

A female demon opened the door. She had long blonde hair, green eyes and was wearing skinny jeans to show off her long legs. By all standards, she was pretty, and when she walked up to the table, her eyes were fixed on Sam in a way that made his cheeks heat up. He looked back to Azazel, whose face was serious.

“You will have to drink demon blood, Sam. Ruby here volunteered to be your donor – whenever you feel like you need it, just call for her.”

Sam swallowed when he thought about drinking blood. Of course, it made sense – the first drops of blood had given him his abilities, drinking more of it would enhance them.

“Is there a reason why you meant for the abilities to stay dormant until I – and the other children – turned twenty-two? And why mine started working before?”

Azazel smiled, but it was a dangerous, sharp smile.

“Because you are the strongest out of them, Sam. That’s why you are here, and they are not.”

He nodded, the explanation made sense after all. And the way Azazel had looked at him was enough to make him ignore he’d only answered part of the question.

_(Of course it was because of me being Lucifer’s vessel. Azazel was always a liar.)_

“So...demon blood”, Sam murmured to himself, looking over at Ruby. She smiled, revealing a little knife she held in her right hand while stretching out her left arm.

“Do you want it directly from me or would you prefer the glass?”

Sam’s gaze went from her arm to the empty glass on the table – so that’s why Azazel didn’t allow him to drink whiskey – and then up to Ruby. The look in her eyes made him swallow audibly, and he grabbed the glass before standing up and holding it out to her. She used the time to give him a complete once-over, and Sam had to hold himself back from biting his lower lip.

“The glass, please.” His voice sounded strangely raspy, but Ruby didn’t comment, she simply held her arm over the glass and used the knife to cut herself – a long cut, but not very deep, just enough so the blood started running, to the bottom of her underarm from where it dribbled into the glass.

The smell was strong and heady, and although it was just iron and sulphur it was strangely...fascinating, it almost made his mouth water. Ruby stopped when the glass was half full, and Sam almost asked for more, before deciding that this should be enough. He felt Azazel’s eyes on him, Ruby’s too, and for a moment he stared into the red liquid, wondering if he should really do it.

But it smelt so good, and he came here to find out about his abilities, and Ruby was giving it willingly, so why not...he took a deep breath, prepared for the unpleasant taste of iron and sulphur and took a large gulp, almost emptying the whole glass.

The taste was nothing like what he’d expected. It was iron and sulphur, yes, but it was delicious in ways that no food he had ever tried had been before. It was like drinking warmth itself, like drinking life, like pure indulgence flowing down his throat.

He could feel it in his whole body. For a moment he wondered if it was really just flowing down his throat – or if someone injected the blood into his system, because he felt like it was already flowing through his veins, liquid warmth, heating him up from inside.

He didn’t realize he closed his eyes until he looked at Azazel, who smiled like a satisfied cat, and then towards Ruby, who was already holding up her knife.

“Do you want more? I can-“

“Won’t be necessary”, Sam interrupted her, took a step until he could grasp her arm and brought it up to his face, his mouth finding the cut that was still bleeding faintly, using his tongue to tease it open again, to make the blood flow once more. It was even better to drink it straight from her, and he closed his eyes in ecstasy when the warmth flowing through him became power, became possibilities, never-ending opportunities, power that was sweeping through him like a tidal wave, taking away every border he thought existed. He drank some more and realized there was no such thing as borders, as limits. There wouldn’t need to be. Not for him.

He heard his name spoken as if through a haze, he blinked his eyes open and came down a little, but he was still flying on endorphins _(on power)_ , even when he realized Azazel was standing next to him, telling him to let Ruby go. He let her go, and she was a little pale, but her smile was undeniably proud.

So was Azazel’s.

“I take it you like it?” It wasn’t really a question, but Sam answered it nevertheless.

“Yeah, yeah, I do...it’s amazing. I didn’t believe...” He interrupted himself, looked at Ruby. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, I just-“

She didn’t even let him finish his apology, just shook her head and replied honestly “It’s okay. I volunteered, and I don’t mind. I’m not human, so you don’t have to worry that a little blood loss will do any damage.”

He nodded, grateful. Azazel held something in his hand – Ruby’s knife.

“Try to move it”, he told Sam, and he nodded, focusing on it, trying to move it somehow, his face scrunched up in concentration, when suddenly the knife didn’t just hover over Azazel’s hand, but instead flew upwards, burying itself to the hilt in the ceiling.

Sam stared, wide-eyed, but Azazel clapped slowly, looking like a proud father.

“Good. Very good. From tomorrow on, your training will change. I will talk to Benny, and there’s someone else you need to meet.”

After getting a grip on himself, Sam turned towards him and nodded lightly.

“Who will it be?” He was curious, always had been.

“His name is Alistair. He...handles a very important part of hell. But you’ll see that soon enough.”

Sam nodded, willing the knife to slip out of the ceiling, and he caught it before it could fall to the floor. He handed it to Ruby, who gave him another smile that made him feel strangely hot.

Then both of them left, and Sam couldn’t stop grinning to himself, knowing that he finally found what he came for, that he would learn how to use his abilities – how to control them.

When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror – it was purely by chance, he was walking by the bathroom – he realized there was still a little blood on his lips. He made a step forward, as if to get to the sink to wash it off, but then he decided against it and simply licked it off, savouring the taste. He closed his eyes for a moment.

It would have been a perfect moment – quiet, peaceful, blissful - but there was something nagging at him, as if he forgot something, something that had to do with Azazel. But how was that possible, Azazel had left just minutes ago, and he remembered the conversation perfectly well.

No matter how often he thought it through, he couldn’t find what was wrong. His abilities were trying to show him something, point something out to him that he had apparently forgotten, but it wasn’t there.

Sam decided to let it go for now, maybe it was something Azazel had told him a longer time ago, maybe some detail he had missed. He’d go over his memories again, check the conversations. Somehow, one talk they had in particular seemed strange, almost...unreal.

He shook his head and forced himself to let it go, this time for real. He would meet Alistair tomorrow – a name he’d only heard spoken in hushed whispers so far – and he was excited.

_(That was the first day I ever tasted true power.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, comments & Kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
